Universal genocide Book 1: Genocide
by Jackson the son of tsuru
Summary: Tsuru,Jackson,Christine,Harold,abiline,tomen,varys,and meclo, vs the universal genocidial maniac.
1. Warning

**THIS STORY HAS SOME DRUGS IN IT NOT FOR THE FAINT OF HEART**

also the first chapters of tsuru are ment to be like talking to you!


	2. Chapter 1:Welcome to Tsuru

A wiseguy? A goodfella? A mobster? Sure, you can call me any of those. I've been a member of a major crime family for a long time now. Normally I'd never tell anyone about my life, but I can trust you, right?

Don't ask me about my ancestry. Yakuza, Russian Mob, Sicilian, Mexican Cartel…race doesn't matter as much as it used to. Some traditions still hold. We have a boss whom we call the Don, our captains are called caporegimes and the made men and women are called soldiers. Heck, we even have the Five Families in New Daria, just like New York, right?

No, they aren't THE Five Families. It's just a coincidence that five different organizations run the city like they do in the Big Apple. It was like that before I was born. I came from a poor lower-class family.

The apartment I grew up in was dirty and the plumbing was always giving us trouble. My clothes were secondhand and I never got any of the cool toys I saw on TV. The neighborhood was noisy and dangerous. It was no wonder that I started a life of crime at a young age.

My parents were regular people. They weren't saints, but they certainly didn't have any connections to organized crime or anything like that. They tried to raise me to be a moral and well-adjusted little boy.

My family was well-known in our neighborhood. No, not my criminal family. I'm referring to my parents and myself. They were the ones who named me tsuru.

I remember the first time I was involved in a crime. I was eight years old. A couple of friends and I were at a local convenience store. It was stupid kid stuff. Even my best friend was there Kakarot.

Kakarot was a well built and excitable little boy with messy black hair. You may know him as Goku...

"Just take it," the leader of our little group said with a sneer, forcing the candy bar into my hands.

He was a boy named Vegeta.

He was always doing crap like that. At that age, Vegeta was bigger, stronger and meaner than Kakarot or myself. For a bunch of little kids, most of the time that was enough to make us follow him.He was tall, had long black hair that stood up, and was already starting to get broad shoulders. He looked like the poster boy for the perfect all-saiyan boy.

Kakarot had already shoved a bar into his own pocket. Although he tried to look nonchalant, I could see that he was scared and nervous.I took the bar and put it in my pocket.

That's right, my life of crime began with a cheap candy bar. I don't even remember what kind it was. The three of us tried to walk quickly out of the store, but Mr. Dwyer stopped the door from opening with one thick hairy arm. I think the old man knew what we were up to from the beginning.

"You think you can steal from me?" he spat. "You stay here, I'm calling the cops!"We waited for the police to arrive.

The law was slow to act in New Daria, which was part of the reason that organized crime was flourishing. After so much talk about recession and national debt, the budget cuts had decimated the police force. I stayed quiet.

I didn't know anything about omerta or a "code of silence" back then, but even kids know you don't rat each other out.The policeman found the candy bar in my jacket. Our parents were called and we were charged with shoplifting. My parents were really upset and although it was only a youth record, I had gotten the attention of the police.

The most popular sport in my school was lacrosse. It was a brutal game where the players had to be fast and tough. Although the sticks were supposed to be used to catch the ball, they were more often used to bludgeon your opponents' legs and take them out of the game when the refs weren't looking. The fact that the team was co-ed didn't seem to stop the violence, although some of the guys weren't as rough against the girls. I was the star player.

I joined early and I played a lot. My reflexes were good and it kept me in great shape. Kakarot had changed from a nervous littleboyinto a vicious and angry 13-year-old. He wasn't good at following the coach's orders and was inevitably cut from the team at the beginning of each season for getting into a fight with a teammate or an opposing player.


	3. Chapter2: Tsurus first love

As I got older, I got into more serious types of crime. I dealt drugs for a local dealer. I was very small-time. Mostly just weed,Meth ,and prescription pills. There was always someone at school wanting to buy something for the weekend. It made me popular in school and put money in my pocket. I Gained $1200 each day. I also did drugs too.

I met my first love in high school.

A pretty girl. Christine was a good student who paid attention in class. She was popular and pretty, so nobody bugged her about it. She played a few sports and although she wasn't the best athlete, she was good enough to make most of the school's teams.

Her long, slightly curled brown hair and deep brown eyes probably haunted a lot of my peers' dreams through high school. She had an easy laugh and a sparkle in her eye that was instantly adored by everyone.I confidently asked her on a date almost right away. I was pleased when she said yes. We had known each other our entire lives. I think she had been waiting for me to ask her out for a long time. My parents loved her, but her parents hatedme, probably because I came from the wrong side of the tracks.

I was open and honest about where I got my money.

Christine wasn't happy about it and often urged me to stop, but I continued anyway.

I remember this one Friday night. I was at a house party with Kakarot.I think Christine was working, or something.The music was loud and everyone was getting drunk or high. It was a good time. I don't even remember what the argument was about, but a big group of guyswanted to beat up kakarot . They wanted to because kakarot would not take the cocaine. The awkward thing was, Vegeta was a part of the group.The fact that Vegeta was on my lacrosse team didn't seem to matter.

There were five of them, with vegeta leading the pack. Although Kakarot was nearly a foot shorter, he wasn't going to back down.I punched Vegeta in the nose and then the jaw.

It made a disgusting crunching sound as it broke and splattered blood all down his shirt. The fight became nearly impossible to follow after Kakarot began swinging his fists at the other four. We did alright that night. I ended up with a bruised arm and a broken leg , but considering the odds, we called it a victory.


	4. chapter 3:Juvie life

Life was good when I was in high school.I had a great girlfriend and some really good friends.I had lots of money and the future looked wide open.This all fell apart when I was tricked into selling some pot to an undercover police officer. Luckily for me, I didn't have a lot on me and I was still a youth.

I was found guilty in youth court.Unfortunately, I already had a record, so the judge wasn't lenient. This was why I was sent to a juvenile detention center for my final years of high school.

Juvie wasn't so bad. There were people there who had done much worse things. I made so many connections with people on the wrong side of the law, it was practically inevitable that I would fall into a life of crime.Unfortunately, Christine, my girlfriend, was very disappointed in me. She visited me, but it just wasn't the same.I was glad that I had told her the truth about my background, or I'm sure things would have been much worse.

I had mixed feelings when Kakarot was charged with assault and sent to the same detention center. He had been turning into more and more of a hothead as the years went by. Drunk or high, Kakarot didn't even remember why he had beaten the snot out of some guy in a pool hall downtown. Although I felt bad that he was stuck in juvie with me, it was nice to have a friend.We spent most of our time in the weight room.

We treated our time in juvie like we'd seen prisoners on TV. We worked out and we talked tough. All of that exercise during my formative years really paid off.

The juvenile detention center that I stayed in was affiliated with my old high school. The only thing that really meant was that we were eligible to try out for their sports teams.It was nice to stay with the lacrosse team and see my old teammates. We had a good team in my second to last year and we even made it to the state championship.The big game was incredibly loud and was played in an enormous stadium. Our team was nervous, but vegeta strode about as confidently as ever.He had become even taller and more muscular as he had gotten older.

I tried my hardest.

It was a great game and it was exciting to play in front of so many people. Vegeta and I were the stars of the game. It was a close match, but in the end, we won. It made us local heroes around the city.

The years passed.I was surprised when Christine invited me to prom at her school. I would be thebad boyat a school full of innocent students…a wolf among sheep.

I was eager to get away, so I accepted.

I wasn't in jail, so they had to let me go. Unfortunately, I had a curfew and I knew that they'd be smelling my breath when I got back. We had a really nice time.

It's a memory I'll never forget. We had a fancy limo, we went to a nice restaurant, and we went to the dance. I regret that we had to cut the night short, due to my probation, but it was still a really fun time. When I watch all those movies on TV about proms, it always reminds me of that night.

I went to my classes in juvie and saw the occasional bright kid reform their ways and apply to college.Unfortunately, I wasn't one of them. My marks weren't good enough to get into any good college programs.My probation officer was content with my choice of what to do when I was released. I trained to become a saiyan warrior. It wasn't a glamorous job, as a fighter-in-training. It certainly wasn't something that I would have chosen had I come from a family with money. I went to the gym and worked out every day. In addition, I had to be very careful with what I ate.It was very difficult, being an up-and-comer. I wouldn't be making any real money until I was ready to take part in the big events.If it weren't for the few sponsors I had, I wouldn't have had any money at all.


	5. Chapter 4: 4 FINGER NELSON

I had been training for two years when I met my first mobster. He was a capo from one of the Five Families of New Daria.The 44 klik family. Of course, I had no idea when I first met him. I was done training for the day and I was doing some laundry. What? Oh, ha ha. No, not money laundering…at least not at that time in my life. I was at a coin wash.

"Hey, is anyone else here?" the man said when he burst in.

He looked to be about 40 years-old and had slicked-back dark hair. He had a bit of a belly, but there was something about his eyes that told you he was dangerous. That and the fact that he had a gun in his hand. He was all sweaty and out of breath. As it turned out, we were the only two people in there that day.

I said, "Easy fella, put the gun away."

The man ignored me as his eyes searched the room frantically. His gaze settled on a small broom closet which he opened and went inside. The door barely closed before two more men stepped into the room.

They were both large and one of them had a tattoo of barbed wire around his biceps. They also had guns. The tattooed man levelled his piece at me while the other searched the laundromat. He checked the locked door of the manager's office and the empty bathrooms, but found nothing. He briefly rattled the handle of the broom closet, but it also appeared to be locked.

"You see a guy run by here?" the man with the gun said, aiming it right at me.

I moved quickly, pulling the gun from the man's hand. I have to admit: I got lucky. The man obviously didn't expect such a bold move. I pointed the gun back on the two of them before they could do anything about it. I don't know what would have happened next, had the broom closet door not opened. The twin gunshots exploded in the small laundromat as the dark-haired man killed his two pursuers. He stepped out of the closet, his eyes on the dead men.

"You did good, kid," the man said as he approached me. "Do you know who I am?"

I admitted that I didn't. That was the day I met Four Finger Nelson Harcourt, a caporegime of the 44Klik Family. He told me that if I ever needed anything, any type of favor, all I had to do was ask.He made a phone call and four men showed up to remove the bodies. No police investigation was ever made and the incident never made the newspapers.

I went back to my apartment near the gym and googled all sorts of Mafia sites shortly after that. I learned that New Daria was home to the Five Families: The Sato Family, the Smirnov Family, the Rossi Family, the Martinez Family, and the 44Klik Family. I learned that a capo is a captain and only one level below the boss himself.

Four Finger Nelson Harcourt was one of ten caporegimes who worked directly under Terrence "Silver Dollar" De Luca, one of the most wanted men in America.Although he wasn't the one to have founded the 44Klik Family, he was the current boss.


	6. Chapter 5: Joining the 44 klik

Surprisingly, it was my kind and sweet-hearted girlfriend Christine that made me join the mob. She was working at a coffee shop while putting herself through school. Even more ironically, it was a cop that began causing her troubles. It started out innocently enough, with the officer asking her out on dates and flirting with her while she worked. Christine held up well, telling the cop that she was already seeing someone.

Unfortunately, one night I was at the shop, waiting for Christine's shift to end. The cop wasa short, fat, ugly man with little pig-eyes. Hewas reaching across the counter and grabbing my girlfriend's butt right in front of me.

I launched myself at the officer. I dropkicked the officer than shot a ki blast at him. Within moments, the other cops were on me. They beat me severely with their nightsticks and brought me to jail. When it came time to make my one phone call, I called Nelson. I don't know if he bribed them or intimidated them, but I was released with no charges and the cops stopped coming to the coffee shop. I knew that those scumbags were just biding their time to get back at me, so I decided to tie myself closer to the 44Klik Family for protection.

Four Finger Nelson did most of his business from a smoky bowling alley downtown called Lucky Lanes. The sounds of balls rolling down the alleys resounded loudly as I walked past several large men with beady eyes. When I told them my name, they stepped back and let me through.

"Good to see you again," Nelson said from a seat behind a small round table.

He was drinking from a glass with brown liquid, whisky or scotch, I think. The other men were all quiet as I approached. They said nothing as I asked him for a job. He paused for a minute, looking me up and down.

"Done!" he said after a moment's deliberation.

I called my sponsors and told them that I would no longer be competing. I knew I'd have a lot of explaining to do to myparents and girlfriend Christine.My new life as an associate for the 44Klik Family had begun.


	7. chapter 6:Jimmy the carrot

I got an apartment near Lucky Lanes. It wasn't much to look at, but it was my own and it was home. Nelson told me to buy a car and meet a guy named Jimmy Rockford.I went on to buy a car. I made a down payment on a souped up Saiya klok. It cost $1500.

It was a sweet ride with a ferocious V8 engine.

Jimmy "The Carrot" Rockford was a 40-year-old health nut from New Daria. I met him for the first time at a diner called Wilma's that wasn't too far from the Lucky Lanes. He was a "made man," which meant that he'd been initiated and accepted into the 44Klik Family. That meant that he was untouchable. If anyone messed with Jimmy, without Silver Dollar's okay, they were worm food.

I, on the other hand, was an associate. That meant that I was little more than a tool for the real mobsters. I was disposable and had no pull besides my connections to some important people. Jimmy was waiting for me with an egg-white omelette, whole wheat toast with no butter, and orange juice instead of coffee.

"Hey, Tsuru, have a seat."

I ordered the special. The waitress nodded at me and then returned to the kitchen without even bothering to write it down. Jimmy made no comment about my order as my food arrived a short time later.

"So, Four Finger says you're looking for work," he said after the meal was done. "Good, let's go. You're driving."

I knew that Jimmy likely owned an expensive car or two of his own, but that didn't matter. He wanted me to drive and that meant that we had to use my klok.He made no comment about my nice car as he got in. I think he expected young people to have flashy rides like mine.

We didn't go far before he had me pull over in front of Flowers for You. He waved for me to come in and we entered the store. The woman behind the counter seemed friendly as she handed Jimmy an envelope. We left and went to the next store, where another envelope was waiting. It was a classic protection and extortion racket. The business owners paid their money, or things got broken. And, if they had any troubles that the law couldn't fix, Jimmy helped them out. The morning went by quickly.

It was just after lunch when we visited Lenny's Deli. Lenny was a short bald man with grey hair. I knew something was up the instant we stepped inside. He was busy, with a dozen customers lined up at his register. Unlike our previous visits, Lenny gave us no more attention than a brisk shake of his head. Jimmy turned to me, likely curious to see how I'd handle my first obstacle.

I politely asked Lenny to come into the back room. The bald man looked like he wasn't going to listen at first, but then he agreed. I didn't even need to say very much. Once we were alone, he suddenly became very reasonable. He took out an envelope from his apron and passed it to me. I handed it to Jimmy and we left the deli, driving to the next place.

The title the newspapers liked to use was Soldier. Jimmy was a made man and his job was to earn money. Today he was a bagman, collecting tribute to send up the ranks to Nelson and then on to the Don, Terrence De Luca. That became a regular monthly outing for us, visiting the various rackets Jimmy had going and shaking them down for our share.

A few days later found Jimmy and I met in a dark alley behind Flowers for You. The woman who owned the store said that she'd seen a "scary young man" hanging around her shop late at night. Since the store was under Jimmy's protection, he was asked to fix the problem. I'm not sure why the lady didn't call the cops; likely because she was under Jimmy's protection and any contact with the police was greatly frowned upon.

We were only in the alley for an hour when a skinny man with bad acne showed up. Jimmy had us wait a bit to see what was happening. It didn't take long before two street punks showed up and the three of them began to whisper. Items and cash were exchanged and the punks went on their way. Jimmy frowned as he strode confidently forward.

"You lost, friend?" he asked the dealer.

"Free city, man," the skinny guy replied. "Take a hike."

Jimmy looked at me expectantly.

I cracked my knuckles and went to work on the guy's face. he didn't put up much resistance as I laid into him. A few minutes later found me standing over his bleeding body as Jimmy leaned over him.

"This is 44Klik territory," he said. "If I see you here again, you'll be leaving by ambulance. Get lost."

We got back into my klok and went home. The owner of Flowers for You was happy to have her problem solved.

This was how my days went, working as Jimmy's driver and bodyguard. I even got a regular pay check from a legal source. Naturally, it was a no-show job that gave me laundered money and a title. My pay stub said I was the Assistant Manager for New Daria Airlines International Freight Storage Department. Sure, I had no office, no subordinates, no responsibilities and no tasks to perform, but I still got a pay check once a week. It was a good system.

I paid my income taxes every year. I knew what happened to Al Capone and I wasn't going to suffer the same fate. Sure, it bothered me to send nearly half my check to the government which ironically used the money to fund police forces and FBI agents to try to catch me, but I knew it was the safe thing to do. Besides, I still got paid cash under the table as well. By the time I paid all my bills though, I didn't have a lot left, during those early days.


End file.
